The Fulfillment of A Promise
by shadowquill
Summary: [Marauder's Era: yr1 to yr7] Dark and difficult times during the Dark Lord's reign. [Alot of LilySeverus and brief LilyRemus, but eventually LilyJames, NarcissaLucius, and MollyArthur.]
1. Eileen Prince

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling, the brilliant and talented, is the one who has conjured the magical world in which Harry and his many friends (and enemies...) live. Sadly, I can take no credit for that. I merely write fanfiction... sniff 

And so, without any further ado, I present my fanfiction. Please note that it takes place a significant number of years before Harry was even born. If you are a devout fan, however, the characters I use will not be strangers to you. As a great fan of the Marauders and the Half Blood Prince, I decided to write a fanfiction revolving around them. I must admit I sympathize with both the mischief makers and the social outcast. I hope you enjoy what my inexperienced hands have managed to create. Thanks for reading!

**Chapter 1: Eileen Prince**

"Eileen..."  
No. Don't turn around. Just ignore him; you already know what he'll speak of.  
"Eileen, please wait one moment. I must speak with you."

Eileen Prince turned, reluctantly meeting the gaze of her former teacher and headmaster. Albus Dumbledore.  
"I'm very sorry, Professor, but I have to return home and prepare dinner. My son, you see..."  
As soon as the excuses left her mouth, she realized they were futile. She would hear him out. Not because she wanted to, but because Albus Dumbledore was such a persuasive man, one as weak-willed as she could barely resist even his unspoken requests. Sighing with resignation, the worn-out young woman fidgeted with her fraying robes, plucking at stray threads as Dumbledore smiled a pitying yet kind smile down on her.

"It will only take a moment or two, I assure you." His eyes briefly lingered over her bruised legs and chin, but then quickly returned to her eyes when she began to twist the wedding band on her finger nervously.  
"I have expressed my concern for you countless times, and yes, I feel compelled to express it once more before your son begins school."  
"Oh. Yes. I see. Hogwarts..."  
"Although you are resolved to remain married to Tobias, and with great sadness I confess that is entirely your decision, I urge you to think of your son. Surely Severus would be better off without..." Dumbledore searched for words delicate enough to express his opinion. Then, after deciding that delicate words would not do, he continued, "...without the fear, overwhelming helplessness, and anger that all children of abusive parents suffer. He knows that you prefer to live with his father rather than provide him, your son, with a better life. He must be a clever boy, with a mother such as yourself, and for you to pretend that he doesn't resent this... You are lying to yourself."

Eileen shivered, pulling her thinning cloak about her small form. Quickly brushing a tear from her eyes, she picked up her dropped grocery bags and feigned leaving. It was as if returning home was less favorable than listening to this unwelcome intrusion into her private life. How dare he meddle? He couldn't possibly understand. And yet she lingered to hear his last words of advice.  
Putting on an air of faint annoyance, Eileen turned away from Dumbledore slightly, lip trembling, bidding her voice to remain steady as she spoke. "I don't know what you speak of. I should hope that you would disregard any rumors you may have overheard concerning our family. Tobias works long hours, yes, and he has a horrid temper, but he would never lay a hand on my son."

"How can you believe this, Eileen? How can you, one of the best students Hogwarts has seen, deny the blatant truth? You believe physical abuse is all that your son need fear? Hear this wisdom: So long as you are physically abused, your son will continue to be emotionally strained. Even now it may be too late to reverse the psychological effects his tragic home life has rendered."  
She could tolerate it no longer. "Sir, I must go. I… I told Severus that I would return within the hour, and I am already twenty minutes late. His father may have already returned, and…", she faltered, unable to finish. With a somber half-smile, eyes overcast with concern, Dumbledore nodded.

"Very well. But may I assist you in carrying those groceries? Perhaps I should spare the school owls a flight and deliver this personally." He pat his left pocket gently, Severus's school letter folded neatly within. Ignoring her faint protests, Dumbledore took two of the cumbersome bags from her and continued down the street with a grim smile of determination. Eileen soon gave up and followed, stepping lightly to keep up with his brisk pace.


	2. Cucumber Sandwiches

**Chapter 2: Cucumber Sandwiches**

On the porch steps of a little cream-colored house sat Rose Evans. Ever since noon she had been leafing through her student's reports, smiling at the content of most, and sighing at the content, or rather, the lack of content, of those that failed to meet her standards.

Despite the sun's radiance and the sky's clarity, the day was a bit chilly and Mrs. Evans decided that wearing a jacket over her sleeveless shirt would have make her more comfortable. Nonetheless, she didn't wish to waste the time it would take for her to fetch one, as she was eager to join her family for lunch in about an hour. Petunia was due back from her date with Harrison Thorton, and Rose's husband David was inside the house with Lily, their other daughter, preparing the cucumber sandwiches.

Lily offered to assist with everything, cooking especially. She had a knack for it, as if she instinctively knew how the ingredients would taste if prepared in this way, or that. Perhaps, in time, Lily will find a passion for Chemistry as I did, Rose mused.

"Mum, its time for lunch!" Lily called out the kitchen window, grinning ear-to-ear. "And guess what? I made a special dessert as well! I can't tell you what it is, though. It's supposed to be a surprise"  
Rose laughed. Lily's mouth had chocolate icing smeared all over it. Not wanting to spoil the "surprise", however, she kept silent.

"I'll be right in, dear! I can't wait to find out! Oh! Don't forget to set out a plate for your sister too. She'll be returning any minute."

"Right-oh!" Lily sang, her face disappearing from view. The boxed flowers along the window's edge were still dancing from where her brilliant red hair brushed them as she withdrew her head. Smiling to herself, Rose shuffled her papers into one pile, and went inside.

---------

"So, how was your date, dear?" Mrs. Evans asked, looking fondly over at a beaming Petunia. Lily inwardly groaned. This would be a long, and most likely arrogant, account of Harrison Thorton's affections as they manifested themselves in expensive purchases and escapades. Lily had no interest in Petunia's love life, not because she didn't care for her sister, but because she knew Petunia to be rather superficial when it came to boys. She always dated those who were good-looking, generous, and above all, wealthy. Petunia cared little for their interests, aside from herself, of course, and cared even less for their talent and intelligence.

"Splendid. Harrison took me to that new expensive restaurant down the road from his home. You know, the one with the roses in the window? I had filet mignon, of course, and afterwards we..."  
Lily's mind began to drift away from the tedious conversation. Eyes wandering towards the kitchen window, she smiled faintly as a honey bee drifted lazily down upon the flowers, collecting pollen from one and then floating to the next. A boy rode by on his bicycle, and an elderly woman walked her spaniel along the sidewalk. Birds twittered, and an owl flew by. Wait. An owl?

"That's funny," Lily mused to herself.

"What is it dear?" her mother asked. Petunia rolled her eyes and began tapping her nails along the tabletop, miffed that Lily had interrupted her sappy monologue.

"Oh! Did I say that aloud?" Lily asked, flustered. "It's nothing. I only thought I saw an owl fly past our house, carrying a letter in its talons. Funny, isn't it?"

"Not really." Petunia didn't bother to keep the resentment out of her voice as she said it. "Ehem. Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted…"

"Speaking of letters, the mail has probably arrived by now." interrupted her father, paying no heed to Petunia's indignance at being cut off a second time, equally bored with her frivolous chatter. "Petunia, dear, would you mind fetching it for me?"

Shoving her chair away from the table, Petunia set herred heelson the floor with a loud bang and strutted off into the hallway, slamming the front door as she left. Mrs. Evans sighed. The tension of the room had left with her indignant daughter. They only had a minute or two of serenity, however, as Petunia strutted back in with the same demeanor.

"Tsk. Two letters for you, mother, a few bills for you father," Petunia handed each their envelopes, "…and this must be for you." Petunia launched the last letter at Lily, knocking over a water glass. With an indifferent smirk, Petunia seated herself at the table once more, looking mighty pleased with herself. Lily feigned an air of equal indifference, daintily wiping up the spill, squeezing out the hem of her skirt, and dabbing at the edges of her letter meticulously.

Deciding to take no action against Petunia's rude behavior, at least for the time being, Mr. Evans turned his attention to Lily's unusual letter. It was sealed with an illustrated crest, but what it stood for was an absolute mystery to him. At the center of the crest sat a bold letter "H", and around the H a snake, badger, raven, and… is that a lion?…sat with uncanny airs of dignity.

"Go on. Open it!" Mrs. Evans was just as intrigued as her husband was, and even Petunia, who rarely took an interest in the business of others, sat fidgeting out of poorly concealed curiosity.

Lily slowly removed the seal. She wasn't sure why, but her heart began to race in excitement, and as she unfolded the yellowed parchment her green eyes sparkled with a strange happiness. What if it was merely a practical joke? Perhaps it was her fondness for fairytales that made her believe it was possible. Taking a slow breath, hands shaking and mouth dry, she began to read.

"Dear Ms. Evans…We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September first. We await your…owl?…by no later than…July thirty first…"

Petunia could contain herself no longer. Giggling hysterically, she shook her head back and forth almost comically as she tried to speak between her bursts of laughter. "Oh. Yes. Ahaha! My god, I can't believe you didn't laugh before I did, Lil! I mean, just reading…ahaha…that…" Mr. Evans was done fighting off his hysterics as well. Only Lily and Mrs. Evans were having different reactions. Lily just sat staring at Petunia, mildly offended but mostly disappointed and ashamed of herself for believing such nonsense, even for one moment. It was too good to be true. Magic, real! Honestly.

Mrs. Evans, on the other hand, sat staring out the window at the owl that had perched itself along the window's ledge. Its huge, golden eyes were staring right at her, as if waiting for her to say something. The most peculiar expression began to form on her face as she wrestled with her definition of truth and reality, trying to find the words to speak and inform her family of the mysterious encounter she had had a week ago while shopping. Clearing her throat, she attempted to form the words, but found she could not. And all the while that bird continued to stare with its golden orbs, waiting. Waiting. 'It knows.' Mrs. Evans thought. 'It knows.'

As her eldest daughter and her husband began to regain their composure, Mr. Evans wiping the tears from his eyes and Petunia pursing her lips in self-restraint, Mrs. Evans felt a rush of courage.

"There is something that I believe I must tell you, Lily. One week ago, as I was shopping for organic medicines in a rather eccentric part of London, I accidentally knocked into an old man in robes. He had a long white beard and an all-knowing look in his blue eyes, and he forgave me for scattering his shopping basket's contents quite readily. As I assisted him in cleaning up the mess…you know, there were seeds and powders strewn everywhere…we began a conversation. He asked of my profession, and I told him. I asked him of his, and he calmly replied that he was the Headmaster of a school called Hogwarts, but that I'd most probably never heard of it, and most probably never would hear of it again. I asked him if it was a small school…after all, why else would I never hear of it?…and he simply replied that it was a school of great prestige in other parts of the country, but unheard of hereabouts, and then…" Mrs. Evans looked at Lily with a curious expression. "And then he mentioned you, Lily, dear. He said that although his school only accepted certain young people of particular skills, my daughter Lily would most likely be receiving a letter of invitation from Hogwarts within a few weeks."

Mr. Evans was looking at Lily with glowing pride. Petunia, however, glanced warily over at Lily as if she might jump out of her chair and murder them all.

"I…I think I'll go to bed early. I'm not feeling well." Petunia hopped out of her chair and nearly tripped over the cat as she sprinted into the hallway. A door slammed upstairs, and then all was silent.

Lily stared down at her cucumber sandwich, no longer hungry. "Mum…honestly. Do you really think? Its just…", but she couldn't find the words to express how she felt. How anxious, eager, unsettled, and yet curious, she felt. But the feeling that overwhelmed her was loneliness. Even though she and Petunia had always been different from each other, and even though their disagreements outweighed their accords, occasionally they had felt a kinship, a camaraderie, a sisterly love. The look in Petunia's eyes before she left the table was a look that Lily doubted she'd ever forget. In Petunia's eyes, Lily had seen Fear. A Fear of the unknown can never be alleviated so long as the mystery still remains, lurking in the back of one's mind like an indistinct shadow looming just outside of one's peripheral vision. Petunia would never be able to understand Lily. She had been able to sympathize, on occasion, but never fully understand. Now, Lily doubted that she could even evoke Petunia's sympathy. All kinship previously felt had been replaced by Fear, a Fear of the unknown, a Fear of what Petunia could not understand. The letter slid from Lily's hands as tears began to stream down her cheeks. Mr. and Mrs. Evans began to speak, but for some reason, Lily couldn't understand them. Her nose was running and her vision was blurred. Lily watched as the indistinct figures swirled like wraiths in a fog. She blinked, drops scattering off her lashes and onto the napkin her mother handed her, only then realizing that she was crying.

Yes, she would never forget that look in Petunia's eyes.


	3. A Loving Household

**Chapter 3: A Loving Household**

"SIRIUS! SIRIUS BLACK, YOU GET DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT! GET UP! NOOOOW! Distasteful shame of my household…"

A young boy lay in bed, eyes closed yet apparently not asleep. Pulling his long black hair out of his face, he stretched his arms in a yawn and smiled grimly. Good morning to you too, mother. Sighing half-heartedly, Sirius slid off of his sheets and trudged out of the room.

As he dragged his feet along the ancient floorboards, a bent-over, wizened creature with bat-like ears and a sneaky expression passed by his knees, talking under its breath.

"Young master has displeased my Mistress… oh, if she would only disown the unworthy wretch… young master does not deserve her generosity."

Rolling his eyes, Sirius kicked the elf in the rear, accidentally sending him flying down the staircase on his bottom, yelping all the way. "YOUR INSOLENCE WILL KILL ME YET!", screeched his mother for the thousandth time that week. "Oh, I do wish…", Sirius muttered vehemently as he reached the bottom step upon which a resentful Kreacher sat. Not even bothering to meet the house elf's hateful glare, Sirius strolled into the dining room and sat down at the dark-stained table.

"Took you long enough.", said a small dark-haired boy sitting adjacent to the aging woman. Wrinkling her nose, the witch sniffed in distaste as she buttered her scone.

"Your darling brother Regulus and I have been waiting for such a long time. Look, the tea is cold and seven flies are already perched on the butter plate. What kept you, indolent boy?"

Sirius was about to reply, but after one look at the smug look on his little brother's face he held his tongue. The table was filled with hardboiled eggs, rye toast, "cold" tea, butter, and preserves. Feigning boredom, Sirius proceeded to reach for the green-tinged teapot, a porcelain snake serving as the handle. Fast as lightning, his mother's bony hand whipped out and grabbed his wrist, her dirty fingernails digging into his skin.

"HOW DARE YOU EAT, BOY!" Her voice was shaking with fury, her eyes bulging out of their deep sockets.

Then, as a storm might recede from a battered coastline, the old woman took a deep, rattling breath, and the wildness left her face only to be replaced by cold tiredness. Sirius winced in pain as she took her hand away, leaving crimson blood droplets where her nails had been.

"You shall sit there, motionless, until your brother and I have finished our breakfast. Afterward, you shall silently clear away the ENTIRE table and wash every single dish in the kitchen." Mrs. Black began tapping the top of her egg with a spoon, breaking the shell into little pieces and then flaking it off with her claws.

"Every dish in the kitchen, or every dish that I carry in from the dining room to the kitchen?", Sirius asked hesitantly, immediately regretting it. His mother smirked as she wiped the corner of her lips with a stained napkin.

"Every dish in the kitchen, dear."

- - - - - - - - - -

Ten minutes later, Sirius was standing by the grimy kitchen sink, up to his elbows in greasy pink soapsuds. Kreacher never did the dishes, knowing full well that at least twice a month Sirius would be assigned to do them as punishment. As a result, the remnants of approximately thirty meals were affixed to the towering plates. Sirius would have to spend hours scraping the dried tidbits into the waste bin. Biting his lip in annoyance, he grabbed the moldy dishcloth and set to work.

Not a minute later, his brother peered through the door.

"What do you want, pest?" Sirius was in no mood for Regalus's smugness. Regalus and he got along fairly well, so long as mother wasn't about. Sirius never bothered to kiss up to his mother; theirs was a mutual hatred, but Regalus never missed an opportunity to please her. Sirius kind of understood. Regalus wanted mother to love him just as she adored their cousins, Bellatrix and Narcissa. Mother doesn't love, Regalus. She dotes and she favors, but she never loves. Sirius cared for Regalus some days, the days when Regalus's eyes were red from too many tears of disappointment and his nose was runny from too many sniffles. Nevertheless, Regalus's foolishness annoyed him at times. This was one of those times.

Tautening the washcloth, Sirius flicked dishwater into Regalus's eyes. Scrunching his eyes up in discomfort, Regalus sighed bemusedly.

"Ah, never mind," Regalus said, smirking determinedly despite the soap in his eyes. " I suppose I won't tell you then." And with that Regalus left the room, whistling a happy little tune of his own invention.

"Fine! What is it?" Sirius asked before he even realized the words had left his mouth. He was curious, and he had let his brother get the better of him. Ah well.

Regalus's face reappeared in the doorway. "A letter from Hogwarts has just arrived. Its addressed to you, so I assume that means you're accepted. Mother will be thrilled. That you'll be gone this year, that is…"

A wide grin spread across Sirius's face as his sullenness was replaced by elation. Nothing could spoil his day now. Hogwarts? And he'd be away from his mother for months on end! Feeling hospitable, he tossed his brother a clean rag. Wiping the soap suds out of his eyes with the whitest corner of it, Regalus smiled back at his older brother, a little exasperated.

Hogwarts. At last!


	4. An Avid Reader

**Chapter 4: An Avid Reader**

"Remus, dear! Isn't it time for your lights to be out and your head to be on that pillow?"

The boy jumped and quickly began to stash away all evidence of his late-night reading, laying a bookmark over the page, snapping the heavy volume shut, and dashing over to his bookcase, carefully stowing it between the other overdue library books he had in his possession.

He loved spending hours at the library, sitting underneath that rickety chandelier and leafing through all the knowledge he could get his hands on. Mrs. Thompson doted on him as her favorite visitor, as he always helped return books to their proper places, tidied the children's section, and assisted other visitors in their quest for information. She'd look at him over her spectacles, silver eyes brimming with next-to-familial love, and smile that all-knowing smile of hers as she signed out the tower of books he'd always carry over to her desk, stumbling under the heavy load.

"Now, Remus. What have I told you about carrying too many volumes at once? If they toppled, how would I ever manage to piece them back together? Hmmm?"

There was a rule against borrowing more than three at a time, but as the library rarely got any customers, and Remus was such an avid reader, Mrs. Thompson humored him. He used to approach her desk carrying his designated three volumes, reluctantly leaving the other thirteen on a table a few feet away from the checkout counter. She'd always send him back to them, ordering him to borrow all sixteen. After about a month of strictly adhering to the rules, Remus surrendered. Now he would always bring them all to her, using a library book cart if one was available.

Remus winced as a few yellowing pages flew out the bottom of the book as he was stuffing it onto the shelf. Falling to his knees, he hurriedly, and yet ever so gently, lifted all the stray pages and pressed them back into their proper places. On humid summer nights like this one, the glue would be just moist enough for him to temporarily affix a lost page to the binding.

"Remus! I'm coming upstairs now! If I see that lamp light gleaming from underneath your door, I won't allow you to go to the library tomorrow!"

Remus smiled. "Yes you will, mum. You're just saying that…"

Book reassembled, he slid it onto its shelf, turned off his brass bedside lamp, and wiggled into bed, pulling his great grandmother's quilt right over the tip of his nose.

The door's handle turned and the hinges squeaked as Mrs. Lupin snuck into his bedroom, carrying a melting candle. The light she carried spread just enough, illuminating the path her beige slippers would tread and all obstacles they would have to avoid, namely, famous works of both muggle and wizard literature. Mostly muggle literature, as Mrs. Thompson was the librarian of a muggle public library. The wizard books that he owned were either his grandfather's or his mother's school books. If he got into Hogwarts, he would buy some of his very own. However, the likely-hood of Remus being accepted at Hogwarts was slim to none because of…certain complications…

"Good night, dear." His mother sat down on the edge of his bed and began stroking his hair, a melancholy smile on her lips.

"What is it, mum?"

She usually just came in and said "good night". The last time she sat by him like this was when he was a six years old, terrified of the dark and what may lurk outside his window. He used to have nightmares. Every night it was the same. He'd be lost in the woods, shivering and afraid, and then he'd be running, running so fast that he'd stumble over the tree roots, and then he'd hear howling, and then he'd hear a ravenous panting, like that of a dog but much wilder, and he'd be attacked by a raging beast of fur and fangs… and he'd be left in the dirt along the forest floor, laying crimson-colored mud, and then a wrenching pain in his back, shooting up his spine, and then…

But that was five years ago. His fear of the dark was gone, even though his terrifying dreams were not, and all he had to do was continuously tell himself, "it's only a dream", and then he'd wake up. Most of the time…

"Mum?"

Mrs. Lupin sighed. "Oh, it's nothing, dear."

Remus knew she was thinking about his education again. She had written a humble letter to someone, a letter requesting that he be accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She wrote with desperation, and yet also expressed her willingness to accept whatever decision the school made. She understood. She knew what a burden I would be. It wouldn't have ever been a problem if…

…but one mustn't dwell on the past.

Tomorrow the letter would either arrive, or it wouldn't. It would be the last day to expect one, and Remus refused to get his hopes up. Mrs. Lupin had sent five other letters, one to every wizard school in Europe. No reply from any.

A muggle school couldn't be all that bad. After all, he'd have friends. Friends who would never suspect…

"Mum… you should go to bed. You have to wake early tomorrow morning for that job interview…"

"Yes. Yes, you're right, Remus. I suppose I should. Well…sweet dreams." She kissed his forehead and left, leaving the door slightly ajar, a thin line of dim light left.

Sweet dreams.


	5. The Invisible Boy

**Chapter 5 - The Invisible Boy**

A number of children were running along the street, dashing this way and that in pursuit of…well, in pursuit of something. The problem was, this something (or someone) was invisible, making the game arguably much more complicated, and yet ridiculously entertaining.

A young girl screeched with laughter as the invisible someone tickled her in passing. Seconds later, a boy's hat flew off his head and danced across the street, hands reaching to grab it and laughter dancing across the crowd as the elusive hat paraded just far enough away from their outstretched fingers.

Suddenly a house door swung open, and a voice called from within. "James Potter! Didn't I tell you to clean yesterday! And didn't I tell you that you couldn't play outside with the others until I could see the floor of your room again? Get in here now, young man!"

Smiles faded as the baseball cap fell to the grass and James shook of his invisibility cloak, frowning slightly. "Aw, man!" He kicked the hat a few feet in mild frustration.

"Hey! Watch it, James! That's my favorite!" the kid who owned the hat whined beseechingly as the cap landed in a mud puddle.

"Oh! Um…er…sorry Derrick. I wasn't thinking. Sorry," James muttered, embarrassed by his impulsive behavior. "I didn't mean to do that, really."

Derrick sighed. "It's fine."

"Merlin, James! You really don't think sometimes." A small girl trotted over two him with a strong, admonishing glare in her eyes, uncanny on such a young face. A few boy's chuckled. Cynthia was always lecturing them, and despite her age, or perhaps because of it, she made them ashamed all to easily. With a sigh, she smiled suddenly. "Don't worry, though. Mum will get the stains out. She always does. Remember that mud fight we had three weeks ago, Derrick?"

Derrick grinned. "Of course I do!" Turning to James he shrugged his shoulders and feigned a look of indifference. "Yeah. My mum can get stains out, no problem. She's really good with those cleaning spells."

"James Potter! Don't make me call you again or you won't have dessert tonight!"

"I told you I'm coming, mum!" James yelled back, exasperated. "I've got to go, guys. Same thing tomorrow afternoon?"

The group brightened a bit. "Definitely!" said a red haired boy a few years older than James. "But its my turn with the cloak first, right? I mean, I didn't get to run with it today, and everyone else did…so…"

James winked. "No problem, Fabian! Bye everyone!"

"Bye!" chorused the group. The kids immediately began to reorganize. Enthusiasm wasn't as high without an invisible runner, however, and many decided to return home for dinner.

James strolled home, taking as much time as possible, resenting having to leave his friends so early. It wasn't everyday the Prewetts could play, and it was always more fun when Gideon and Fabian could play. They were older, taller, and faster. It was a tricky game, and the teams had to be unbalanced, as the runner's invisibility was a huge advantage. Seventeen to one, but the chasers had just as much difficulty as the runner, as an invisible person could hide almost anywhere on the street if it weren't for the boundaries they decided upon.

James began to hum, and then burst into song when he entered the house, slamming the door behind him. He exaggerated the vowels and consonants, imitating his mother's favorite vocalist, Cassandra Warbeck. His horrible singing voice only added to the mockery.

"A cauldron of luuuuuurve! For my sweetest daaaaaaaarliiiing!"

Mrs. Potter appeared in the kitchen doorway, broom in hand. "Very funny, young man! Now, up to your room! Scoot! I want it clean by dinner time, do you hear?" And with that, she paddled him with the brush-end of the broom, sending him galloping up the stairs, snickering madly.

The house was decorated Victorian style, but not stuffy in the least. There was a fine family portrait of both Mr. and Mrs. Potter's relatives, dating ten years back. And, of course, numerous photographs of James when he was a baby, all gurgling and laughing with baby-glee as he walked past. A few even waved their little palms playfully. He just ignored them, however, particularly the one of him bathing at the age of two, decked out in nothing save his birthday suit. Ugh. Parents.

At last James reached his room. A squawk greeted him as he swung the door open, its base hitting into random items that littered the floor. Carefully treading along the floor so as not to step on any of his possessions, James tip-toed over to his bed. He had almost made it, having managed to navigate around his broomstick maintenance kit, game of exploding snap, and miniature toy Quidditch field, when he heard a crunch. Groaning, James bent down and delicately swept the glass shards of a broken Remembrall into his palm, wincing a bit when he accidentally pricked himself.

He stuck the bleeding finger in his mouth and flopped down on his bed, irritated. Why couldn't she just clean his room for him like she used to? After all, mum could use magic. She wasn't under aged. It would take a mere second, really. Until this year, she'd always just done it for him. Why the change of heart now? It probably had something to do with his going to Hogwarts that fall. She felt he needed to learn to be a bit self sufficient before leaving home. Parents.

Admittedly, he'd led a fairly pampered childhood. An only child, and raised by doting parents, it was no wonder he hated doing his chores. Not that anyone who'd always done them enjoyed them any more than he, but he suspected it was easier for them to accept it and just do the work. How would he ever get his homework done at school? Procrastination. The one word he heard far too often. Procrastination.

Rolling his eyes, he reached for Quidditch Through the Ages and lazily flipped through the pages, humming again. He'd clean his room tomorrow. Knowing mum, she'd let him get away with it. And he'd gotten his letter of acceptance from Hogwarts! At Hogwarts, he would never have to clean his dormitory. Ever. And with that thought, he abandoned all his worries, few that they were, and immersed himself in his book.

Author's Note:  
This chapter was re-edited after a very thoughtful review from SiriusBlackTheMarauder, noting my error on house elves, and how they aren't hired, they are passed down through the generations. EEP! Well, I'm glad someone caught me. Thanks! If anyone else catches an error in a recent chapter, PLEASE let me know and I will really appreciate it:)


	6. A Missing Puffskien

**Chapter 6: Wizard Battleship and Hamlin the Puffskien**

Two boys lay on their stomachs, leaning over an enchanted Battle Ship game. The rules were basically identical to those of the muggle version, but the pieces themselves were far more entertaining. A chubby boy with watery eyes watched the board as one of his ships became riddled with holes and began to sink, water gushing out its sides as loud bangs accompanied a few miniature explosions.

"Haha! Yes! That's two wins to one, Peter! Now can we go outside? You said best out of three, right?"

With a sigh, Peter bowed his head in defeat. "I suppose so, Bricen." The boats magically rebuilt themselves as Peter shoved the game back into its box. Water sloshed off the edge of the board, vanishing before it could hit the carpet.

The two rose to their feet, Bricen stretching his arms and legs as Peter yawned loudly. Abruptly, Bricen's shoulders stiffened, his head tilted to one side, listening intently. A light pitter patter of rain could be heard splattering the roof, and a glance towards the windows was all it took for Peter to realize that their plans to go trekking through the woods would have to be rescheduled.

Peter pressed his nose against the glass, disappointment written all over his face. Bricen leaned his forehead against the window as well, smiling half-heartedly. "Ah, well. Pity."

Peter and Bricen jumped as an insistent knocking began, hitting their heads against the pane. "Boys? Are you there? Helloo? I locked myself in the basement again!" Smiling as he rubbed his reddened forehead, Peter shuffled into the hallway and opened the door for his father. There was a blatant family resemblance between the two, just as there was between Peter and Bricen. Peter had his father's round face and watery eyes, just as Bricen had his father's turned up nose and wide forehead. All three had mousy brown hair, and both boys had some excess baby fat. The three resembled each other the most, however, when they all smiled as they did now. It was a cheeky smile, one that appeared often and rarely faded. A frown on Bricen or father's face was seldom, it was only Peter who had the occasional pout.

"We were going to go out and look for my lost puffskien, Dad, but…" Peter's lip shook slightly, unable to finish. Mr. Pettigrew reached out and rumpled his hair, an understanding smile upon his lips. "That's ok, buddy. Tell you what, I'll help you look for Hamlin tomorrow, ok? And after we find him, I'll take you to Diagon Alley to buy your supplies." Glancing over at Bricen, he added "Bricen can come too, of course." The two boys grinned.

Tossing Peter a mischievous look, Bricen dashed off towards the stairs. "Last one upstairs is an Aquavirius Maggot!" After a second of puzzlement, Peter scampered after him. "Hey! Not fair! You got a head start!"

Mr. Pettigrew chuckled as he listened to them throttling up the stairwell, Peter tripping occasionally and Bricen skipping along ahead of him, leaping over two stairs at a time. That was one thing that Bricen had inherited that Peter had not: coordination. Nevertheless, Peter had many talents that Bricen did not. He was so proud of his two boys. "They'll love Hogwarts." Mr. Pettigrew thought to himself. "Peter just needs more self-confidence, and Bricen needs more caution. But they're good kids. They'll learn. Eventually…"

For the rest of the day, Peter and Bricen reread Peter's acceptance letter, leafed through the Daily Prophet, and chased eachother around the attic. The rain continued to fall, but the boy's didn't mind. Their imaginations were all that they would ever need.


	7. Don't Be Rude

**Chapter 7: Don't Be Rude**

Lily watched the crowd as Mr. Evans paced back and forth between Platforms 9 and 10, nervously checking his watch, muttering words like "preposterous!" and "damnation!" at the passing of every minute. If they didn't find Platform 9 ¾ in the next five minutes, the seemingly nonexistent train would depart.

Strangely, Lily didn't appear to have any concern. At first glance one might believe she was simply fatigued from lack of sleep, or perhaps dreamily floating in her typically overactive imagination. Upon further observation, however, one would notice that she was quietly watching a young boy leaning against the barrier between platforms seven and eight, only ten feet away from her agitated father. The boy had an unusual air about him, his eyes roaming the crowd without so much as a glimmer of feeling. Try as she might, Lily couldn't see any emotion what-so-ever in either his posture or visage. It was unnerving. She had always been so talented at gleaning what people were feeling, and this boy's apparent lack of pathos frightened her. The more her thoughts reached out towards him, the greater the distance between them felt.

Suddenly, pain shocked her mind as his gaze met hers. Lily gasped, embarrassed that she had been staring. His eyes narrowed, displaying to her the first proof that his features were even capable of expression. Although he was standing at least fifteen feet away from her, and they were in the midst of a boisterous crowd, she heard his words loud and clear, echoing in her mind.

"Don't be rude."

He stared at her for one moment longer with a faint air of curiosity. Then, he walked towards the division between Platform 9 and 10, leaned on it casually, and…disappeared!

Lily gasped in delight.

"Dad! Dad, this way!" Before her flustered father could protest, Lily grabbed him by his coat sleeve and dashed headlong at the barrier.

"Lil! Wha -?"

They had found it. Shaking from the shock of being thrust straight at a seemingly solid wall, Mr. Evans laughed nervously as he patted his daughter on the shoulder. "Well, that's my girl! Very clever, Lily. Haha! Of course. Trust you to realize that all we had to do was walk through a wall! Aha!"

But Lily wasn't listening. She was to entranced by the number of students milling about her, talking excitedly and greeting their old friends. If she had had any reservations, they had vanished as soon as she saw that curious boy fall through the barrier. Impossible. Rather, improbable. And yet, weren't the laws of Science baffling enough in themselves? Gravity: measurable, and yet still a poorly understood force. Einstein's Theory of Relativity. Quantum Mechanics. String Theory. She had always known there were undiscovered worlds throughout the universe, she just had never imagined she would have the honor of exploring any of them herself.

Three minutes until departure. With a comforting word to her father and a peck on his cheek, Lily hopped onto the train. Mr. Evans dried his dripping eyes on the edge of his sleeve, beaming with pride. His eleven year old daughter was becoming a young lady all too soon.

* * *

Mr. Pettigrew and Bricen waved to Peter enthusiastically as the train pulled away. Bricen was two years younger than Peter but unusually tall for his age, so it was no wonder that a few parents had asked when Bricen would be attending Hogwarts.

"Bye, Dad!" Peter called, unsure of whether he was excited or terrified by the prospect of attending school. To keep his father from worrying, however, he merely grinned ridiculously and waved like mad like all of the other students. He had to put on a brave face for Bricen.

Soon the walls of the station blocked his family from view, and Peter had to sit back down in his seat. Strangely, he had the entire compartment to himself. He supposed it was because many were afraid to make new friends, like him, or else they were already sitting with old friends from a previous year.

Then, just as he was contemplating his isolation, the door swung open. A boy about his age stood there, staring hesitantly. "Um, I'm sorry to disturb you. I was merely wondering if…that is, if you don't mind…"

Peter slid over to the seat nearest the window and gave him a relieved smile. "And here I thought that I wouldn't have any company!" The boy sighed gratefully and set his bags down in the corner.

"Thank you."

The two sat staring at the floor for a few moments, afraid to say anything. Peter glanced over at his new acquaintance, noticing the shadowy crescents beneath the boy's eyes and his worn clothes. The boy's eyes were closed, but whether he was resting or meditating was beyond Peter's knowledge. After several minutes of silence, Peter plucked up enough courage to begin a conversation.

"Um. So, d'you know what House you'll be in? At Hogwarts, I mean?" The boy opened his eyes, but stared blankly at the opposite wall. He replied hesitatingly. "Well… I can't honestly say. We don't really know until we're sorted, do we?"

Peter sighed. "Of course. But it usually runs in the family. For example, most of my family has been in Hufflepuff, with the occasional Gryffindor." He sighed again. "I wish I could be sorted into Gryffindor…"

"What is your name?" the boy asked with an air of stilted politeness, as if he wished to end the subject.

"Oh! Peter. I'm Peter Pettigrew."

"Remus. Remus Lupin."

Feeling socially awkward, Peter thought it might be appropriate to shake hands or something, so they did. Suddenly Remus burst out laughing. It was encouraging to watch his melancholic air transform into one of gleeful excitement. Noticing Peter's terror, Remus calmed down a bit, still chuckling.

"Haha. I'm sorry. I was just thinking about how funny we've been, acting as if the other is liable to bite our head off it we say something wrong. Both of us have been treading on eggshells ever since we met, haven't we? I'm sorry if I scare you, but I assure you that I am equally terrified." Smiling, Remus reached into one of his bags. "Here. Have some chocolate. It always cheers me up when I'm nervous or depressed. My mum packed it for me."

Soon the two were chatting amiably about their home lives and interests, all anxiety about making new friends forgotten. Before they knew it, only twenty minutes remained until they would arrive at Hogwarts. They were just about to finish off the last of Remus's chocolate bars when loud voices coming from the hallway startled them.

"You arrogant ass! I told you it would explode, damn it!"

Remus and Peter slid the compartment door open and snuck out, curious as to what the commotion was all about. They didn't have to search for long.

"Who are you calling arrogant, Black? You must have jinxed these cards. I've never lost a game before! And I'd never lose to some pure blood elitist like you, anyways!"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME? Oh, yeah. That's right. You NEVER look beyond a first impression, do you, Potter? NEVER compare me to my damn relatives! Besides, I…"

Another loud explosion occurred, answered by another yelp of indignation.

"So, what's going on?" Peter asked the red haired girl standing outside the obnoxious compartment. A small crowd had gathered to watch the two boys play Exploding Snap, and it was obvious that the one with the messy black hair was losing. Terribly.

"James Potter was bragging about how he'd never lost a game of Exploding Snap. So, naturally, Sirius Black had to challenge him. The prats…" The girl rolled her eyes in annoyance, watching the game with bemused distaste.

"Oh."

After a few minutes of watching the two boys bicker amongst themselves, with the occasional curse from Black, Peter and Remus returned to their compartment. Peter probably would have preferred to stay and watch, but Remus found their fight quite boring. So they changed into their school robes and by the time they had re-packed their bags, the train had screeched to a halt and students were unboarding.

Remus and Peter made their way off the train, jostled by enthusiastic, although undoubtedly rude, children that eagerly shoved their way to the door. Remus didn't blame them. Hogwarts! At last!

"First years, this way!"

* * *

Author's Note: 

Yes. Lily unknowingly is a skilled Legilimens. And Snape realized she was subconsciously sorting through his thoughts, and blocked her with Occlumency. And as for Sirius and James...I always believed they'd start of as rivals, and then become friends. I hope you liked this chapter, cause it was the longest yet, I believe. (I hope my writing has been improving too... all this practice is good!) ;)


	8. The Sorting Ceremony

**Chapter 8: The Sorting Ceremony**

The night was dark and cloudless. The stars stood out brilliantly in the night sky and the cold glow of the moon bathed the excited students in a blanket of soft light. Students were filed into little wooden boats and magically propelled across the chilly waters. Lily had no difficulty distinguishing her fellow first years from the rest of the crowd, shaking with apprehension while their friends gasped in jubilant awe at the ancient castle towards which they drifted.

Tearing her eyes away from Hogwarts, Lily looked over at her two companions in the boat. The first, a girl with delicate porcelain features and hair of equal fairness, sat staring at the castle with casual disinterest. It was hard to tell, as she was very small in build, but Lily surmised that the girl was at least a year older than herself. It was too dark to see what was actually on her uniform, but Lily could tell that it wasn't a generic "new student" badge like her own. The other student in the boat was the boy who Lily had met briefly on the train within the crowd of Exploding Snap spectators. Although he had seemed confident enough on the train, now he was shivering more than the cold night air alone could cause and staring at the castle with fear, his watery eyes darting occasionally to Lily and the other girl.

After a moment of consideration Lily decided that this boy needed some comforting conversation, and was about to introduce herself when the other girl suddenly turned to face the boy and glared.

"Oh, _stop_ twitching already! Not only is it _quite_ unproductive and will get you _nowhere_, it's a damn _nuisance_!"

The boy jumped violently at her venomous words, nearly tipping the boat. With a high-pitched squeal, the girl grabbed the sides of the boat to steady herself, and threw another fiery look at him in annoyance.

"Well, if you hadn't yelled at him the boat wouldn't be wobbling! Its easy for _you_ to scold! This isn't your first year, is it?" Lily felt entirely justified in snapping right back at the girl in the boy's defense. This sudden burst of confidence took her by surprise, however.

Patient calmness was usually her favorite weapon of choice.

The girl sniffed in distain. "No. Of course not. And… you are?"

"Lily Evans. This is my first year. I'd appreciate it if you were a bit nicer to him. Not just for kindness's sake, although that should be reason enough. _I_ don't want to take a dip in this lake any more than _you_ do."

The girl sniffed again, but upon deciding there was nothing more to say, turned to face the castle once more. The rest of the trip was taken in silence, the only sound coming from neighboring boats and the lapping of the waves against the nearing shoreline. Perhaps this first impression was a poor one, Lily mused. The girl may end up being nice under less stressful circumstances. Nonetheless, she felt that this first impression was a pretty accurate one.

The boat nudged ground and their boat came to a sudden stop. The girl flipped her long hair over her shoulder and grabbed her book bag without a word of goodbye. The boy, however, took his time in collecting his possessions so that he could thank Lily once the blond was halfway up the hill.

"Thanks for that. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never been so nervous in my life."

Lily smiled. "It was nothing. I can't stand it when girls treat others like that. Girls are far more vicious than boys when it comes to scathing comments."

"I don't know about that, Lily." Peter replied. "I've met some very rude boys in my life. You need to get out more!" Lily laughed.

On their way up the incline, Lily learned that his name was Peter Pettigrew, his family was mostly of wizard stock, and he had a younger brother. As they entered the castle through a great, towering door, Peter turned to her and asked what house she thought she'd be in.

"_House_? What do you mean? I heard a few other students talking about it on the train, and I figured that it was a way of placing students into dormitories according to personality, or something of the sort."

Peter smiled again, but Lily couldn't help but notice the nervousness with which he glanced about the hallway. Lily couldn't help shaking a bit either in such a magestic and, yes, intimidating atmosphere.

"Well, I guess I don't need to explain much to you. There are four houses, see. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and…well… there's Slytherin, but I've wondered why they've kept it for so long. Lots o' kids with a knack for trouble, if you ask me. Ambitious, fairly selfish, and often greedy, they are."

Lily looked skeptical. "Really? Well, I will never believe that they are all like that. The more I consider it, the less I like the idea of sorting students. Doesn't it just create dissention within the student body? Prejudice? Disinclination to make friends with those in a different house than your own?"

Peter looked a bit discomforted. Lily decided not to press the matter, and changed the subject to pets. Peter was just telling her about his missing Puffskien, when another set of double doors opened to reveal a massive room. Lily had to look twice to confirm that it actually had a ceiling at all. It was designed to mimic the actual night sky, and the effect was startlingly beautiful.

"Students, attention please. All new students come and stand up here, please!" A middle aged witch with auburn hair and glasses was ushering them all towards the front, guiding the students past the long tables at which many older students sat socializing.

All the first years sat themselves down on the floor, stones cold beneath their legs, in front of a funny-looking old hat. Some were whispering excitedly, but most just stared dumbly at the hat.

"Ehem."

Everyone looked up at the woman in obedience. Children always behave the best when they are absolutely terrified.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall, as of this year, the new Deputy Headmistress, and as of previous years, your Transfiguration instructor as well. This," she said, indicating the bedraggled hat sitting on the stool next to her, "…is the Sorting Hat. Within it lies the will of Hogwarts' Founders: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. I shall call out each of your names, one by one, and you shall be sorted into your Houses according to where the hat decides you will do best. I will place the hat on your head, and after a few moments of consideration, it will call out your House."

"Call out…?", Lily heard the boy James Potter whispered to Sirius Black. Sirius Black shrugged. Apparently the boys had become close friends after their fierce rivalry on the train died out.

And the Sorting began.

"Abbott, Henry!"

Henry rose from his place, cheeks flushed and nervous as any of the others. He sat on the stood, eyes closed in resignation.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat called after a moment or two. Relieved, Henry went and sat down with the applauding Hufflepuffs, a bit light headed.

* * *

Sirius and James watched as the students went, one by one, up to the Hat to be sorted.

"Do y'think I'll be in Slytherin, like the rest of my family?" Sirius asked James with frustration as a girl with brown hair and a wary eye went to take her seat at the Slytherin table.

"Can't tell you, mate." James replied distractedly, who had been staring at a very pretty read haired girl in the crowd for the past few minutes. Sirius looked to see who he was ogling at.

"Oh, can you take your mind of that girl for just one second, here?"

"Sorry, but _no_." James grinned mischievously. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Ok. She's ok looking. But what about that other girl over _there_? The one with the braids…"

"Black, Sirius!"

Sirius and James tore their gaze away from the gaggle of girls and gazed, terrified, at the hat.

"I guess you're up, Sirius. Best of luck!" James really hoped that Black would be in Gryffindor with him. Well, he couldn't know that he would be there for sure, either, but all of his family had been, so it was very likely.

With one last look at the girl with the braids, Sirius took a deep breath and took up all the confidence he could muster. No one would have known how nervous he was by the way he approached the Hat with such grace. A few girls giggled. Sirius grinned as he sat down on the stool, watching them blush crimson as he winked at the cutest. James's redhead, however, merely rolled her eyes and watched with bemusement.

"Ah. Interesting…", the Hat whispered in his ear. "Very, very, _very_ interesting."

Sirius had the impression that it was enjoying this immensely. Well, he certainly wasn't. The joy he felt at the girls' admiring looks had turned into a far less pleasurable flip in his stomach.

"So, you don't want to be in Slytherin, like your relatives, do you?"

Sirius screamed the word "NO!" over and other in his head, willing the Hat to hear him.

"No need to yell, boy! I was only asking…", the hat chuckled. "Very well, I guess you're a…"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Yes! He could hardly believe it! Sirius pranced off the stool towards the Gryffindor table, grinning at James as he passed. James grinned back as he ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it very untidy and yet unusually becoming.

* * *

"Evans, Lily!"

Lily started. She had been spacing out, watching the stars twinkling above them. Slowly, she went forward, trying to ignore anything and everything but her destination. Sitting down on the stool was a bit awkward, the hard wooden seat was not remotely comfortable. And then, everything went black as the hat was placed over her head, its brim far too wide to sit atop her curls.

"Hmmm." The hat was silent for many minutes, and Lily began to worry. What if she couldn't be sorted for some reason? "So, you don't believe in The Sorting either?" it asked suddenly. Lily was surprised. She didn't think it would ask a question so off topic.

"Actually, the question isn't as entirely unrelated as you may believe…" the Hat replied, interpreting her thoughts.

Lily braved a reply. "No, not really." The Hat thought for another moment.

"Yes… Hufflepuff never believed much in it either. However, I don't believe you belong there. You have loyalty, yes. And a heap of fair-mindedness. And some ambition and a dash of cunning, even…yes. Terribly courageous. Eh. You are a bit too curious, I see. And, yes. A little too self-confident, perhaps?… (Lily took some offence at this last.) Hmmm…"

The hat paused. "Would you object if I placed you in Slytherin?"

Lily frowned slightly. She didn't want to be considered cruel or overly ambitious. And yet, she thought it would be fun to discredit that awful stigma… "No. Never mind. That won't do", the hat mused, delving into her mind even further. "I've made up my mind, then. You are definitely a…"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Lily hopped off the stool, all fear gone. She had heard a lot of nice comments about Gryffindors, so she wasn't disappointed. She couldn't shake the lingering feeling, however, that if the Hat needed that much time to sort her, it must take its time with many others too. You can't just categorize people! Sure, some are nicer than others, but…

She sat down next to another red-haired girl, who greeted her warmly.

"Absolutely wonderful, meeting you, Lily! I'm Molly Prewett!" Lily returned the greeting and shook hands. Although she was a bit heavy set, the excess baby fat did nothing to detract from Molly's warm glow and beautiful smile. Lily liked her already.

* * *

Now there were only five students left. Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, a pale boy with dark eyes, and a young boy with a terrible case of acne.

Remus was selected and he went without fear. He had been very discomforted by the hard stone floor, and his aching body had allowed him to forget all about his anxiety. Happy that he could finally stretch his legs, Remus walked to the awaiting Hat and sat with calm deliberation.

"Oh! I wish my decisions were always this easy! Although very clever and not always as strong willed as you'd like, you're a real gentleman, aren't you, boy?" Remus blushed crimson. "Yes. Brave, too. Oh yes. Go on, don't believe me. But you must know you belong in…"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Glad to finally sit more comfortably, Remus sat down at the Gryffindor table with a sigh.

"Pettigrew, Peter!"

Lily watched as Peter scurried up to the stool and hurriedly took a seat, accidentally knocking the stool over in his fright. A few nasty chuckles from the Slytherin table were quickly silenced by a look from the majestic old man sitting at the very center of the teacher's table.

"That must be the Headmaster that mother met while shopping…" Lily thought.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Peter walked to the table and sat down on Lily's left, still a little embarrassed that he knocked the stool over. Lily whispered her sympathy and his face brightened a bit.

The crowd of first years was slowly thinning as student by student was sorted. An Ella Peverell went to sit at the Ravenclaw table as Professor McGonagall called for "Potter, James" to come forward.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat shouted once more. James strolled over to the table and sat next to Sirius.

Peter went and joined the group, dazed by the experience but overjoyed that he was in Gryffindor.

"Not too traumatizing, really, was it Peter?" Remus asked with a sly smile. Peter decided not to answer, but grinned sheepishly back and

shrugged his shoulders.

"Snape, Severus!"

The pale boy rose. He was almost to the hat when he sneezed violently. Once. Twice. Four times. Sniffling, he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his robe and sat down. Students tittered, and James and Sirius suppressed a fit of hysterics with a cough or two.

"I don't find the common cold half as amusing as you two obviously do." Lily said, watching the boy under the hat sympathetically. Sirius and James looked over at her and exchanged a glance, then resumed their entirely unconvincing coughing fit.

"Did you see how he twitched at every sneeze?" Sirius whispered to James with a merciless grin.

"You call that a twitch? More like a…um…" James did his own little interpretive twitching fit as Sirius finally cracked, laughing blatantly.

The boy turned his dark eyes on them, tinged with distain and…did Lily detect a hint of embarrassment? No. It must have been her imagination.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat called out. Snape joined the Slytherin table as McGonagall called up the remaining student to be sorted, Devon Wilson, who was promptly sorted into Hufflepuff.

McGonagall went and took her place at the Staff Table, as the Headmaster rose. All eyes were on him as his lips formed a welcoming smile and he began to speak.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

This chapter has been revised, thanks to the kind readers who informed me that I'd completely forgotten to alphabatize the Sorting. (I'm so embarrassed!) A few other little fixes here and there were made too. Nothing major. Thank you very much for the help, everyone, and I hope that you will continue to correct me in the future:)


	9. Wily, Warlike, Whomping Willow

**Chapter 9: Wily, Warlike, Whomping Willow**

"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! For those of you who have just arrived for your very first year, I am Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of this school, and I beg you to forgive me for delaying your delicious feast just one moment longer, as I have a few announcements."

Professor Dumbledore had this air about him. It took very little effort to listen to him speak, and although Peter suspected that it would last a long minute or two, he didn't mind in the slightest. Dumbledore emanated warmth and good cheer, two very welcome feelings. Peter felt so comforted, he began to wonder if Dumbledore's speech was enchanted in some subtle way. No reason to wonder too much, Peter thought to himself. Just enjoy it.

"First off, I must tell you all of a rather new and dangerous tree that Hogwarts is honored to host near the Forbidden Forest this year. (And yes, that forest is forbidden. I hope that its name is sufficiently self-explanatory.) As I was saying, this fascinating tree, as Professor Moonwort will undoubtedly explain during your first Herbology lesson, is named the Whomping Willow. I would hope that the tree's name would prove to be just as self-explanatory as the name of the forest. However, I shall elaborate for those of you who prefer to ignore the words of your elders and learn by the hands-on approach. The Whomping Willow, as beautiful a tree as it is, is also highly dangerous. If you walk too close to this grouchy greenery, it will most likely curl one of its branches around your leg and toss you a wee bit too violently, resulting in either granting your life a permanent injury or shortly ending it."

Many students exchanged looks of surprise. Peter heard Lily whispering "Why plant something so dangerous at a school?" and couldn't help noticing the mischievous look exchanged by Potter and Black. Well, Peter knew one thing for sure. He would most certainly take Dumbledore's advice on this one. Nothing and no one would get him near that tree this year, or the following.

The stern expression left Dumbledore's face almost as quickly as it had arrived. Smiling enthusiastically again, Dumbledore continued.

"Oh, yes. And Mr. Filch would like me to remind you all that any mischief making will be punished."

"_Severely_ punished! _Severely_, Headmaster!" hissed the bent over, middle-aged man who had suddenly appeared at Dumbledore's elbow. Dumbledore chuckled. Peter didn't find the creepy caretaker's passionate insistence half as funny.

"Aside from the Forbidden Forest and the wily and warlike Whomping Willow, I am fairly sure that no further announcement is, at the present, necessary. So…tuck in! I dare say I would love to start filling my belly with delectables as well! Mmmm…I do love chicken legs!" Dumbledore began humming to himself as food miraculously appeared in front of everyone.

Peter jumped in surprise as the empty dishes in front of him overflowed with food as well.

"Wicked!" Sirius and James's cried simultaneously, reaching for the plates that were closest to them.

"I find that, for once, I must agree with you!" Lily exclaimed, looking about the table delightedly. Peter watched as the inner struggle between Lily's self restraint and ravenous hunger came to an end. Lily grabbed the potatoes and helped herself to a gargantuan glob.

"You heard him, Peter! Tuck in! Ah…and please pass the steak. It looks fantastic!" Peter passed Remus the indicated dish and then helped himself to some as well.

"Good?" Lily asked Molly doubtfully as she tried a rather unusual looking soup that had been hidden between two larger dishes. "Mmph!" Molly replied around a mouthful of the soup in question, nodding happily. Lily poured some into her own bowl, watching the steam rise and magically shape itself into various geometric shapes before dissipating.

Suddenly, ablob of mashed pumpkin flew from above and landed only inches from where Lily was sitting. Screams and yelps of indignation could be heard all across the Great Hall. Candles flickered wildly as something swooped about, but it moved too fast for Peter to see what it was.

"PEEVES!" Filch roared, glaring up at the devilish-looking little man sitting among the rafters above them. "Headmaster, I thought yew said Professor Circe had built that charmed barrier 'round the hall so the devil couldn't git in!" A short woman sitting at the teacher's table bit her lip and began apologizing profusely. Dumbledore gave her an understanding half smile and then looked up at Peeves sternly.

"Now, Peeves. Haven't I already spoken to you about this? Perhaps you find your stay at Hogwarts unpleasant, and you wish to make mischief elsewhere. We would be more than happy to give you a jubilant send-off, if you wish to depart immediately."

The poltergeist looked at Dumbledore with a mix of insolence and obedience and answered in a whiny, rather obnoxious voice. "No, no! I understand, headmaster. I won't make any more mischief…AFTER _THIS_!" Cackling, Peeves dove downwards towards the Hufflepuff table and knocked over at least a dozen cups and soup bowls.

"PEEVES!" Dumbledore's sudden change of tone was astounding. He was no longer the cheerful, compassionate headmaster that Peter had listened to before the feast. This Dumbledore held a dangerous air of authority, and Peter suspected that few wizards would cross him if they could help it.

The poltergeist flinched, bowed, muttered a garbled apology, and vanished. Calmed, Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I doubt we'll see him again tonight. My apologies." A scattered applause could be heard from the crowd as Dumbledore nodded and sat himself down once more.

Sirius sighed. "I kind of liked that Peeves…" he mused as he returned to his mountain of food.

"You'd be singing a different tune if he'd thrown pumpkin at _you_." Lily replied, sweeping the orange clump sitting next to her off the seat with a napkin.

James nodded. "Yeah, Sirius. Lovely Lily was under fierce attack, here!" Lily frowned, but Sirius just smirked. Although others might interpret such a remark as sarcasm, and perhaps sarcasm was intended, Peter knew James was flirting with her.

"Oh, yes. Of course. Merlin forbid that such a beauty be besmirched with such loathsome muck! Pumpkin, Evans?" Sirius offered Lily the bowl of mashed pumpkin with an evil grin, which she in turn shoved back violently. Her voice was seething with stilted politeness when she replied, however.

"No thank you, Black. I believe that I've had _quite_ enough for one night."

James gave Sirius a look that clearly said "Why did you have to annoy her? I meant well and you turn it into a joke!" Sirius didn'tseem even remotely apologetic as he helped himself to the string beans.

The rest of the feast was fairly uneventful in comparison to Peeve's outburst. Uneventful so far as Hogwarts life goes, that is. They were rather surprised when the ghosts blew by, leaving them all shivering with goose bumps, and Peter nearly fell off his chair in surprise when Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, proudly displayed how he got his nickname.

Eventually Dumbledore dismissed them all, and their house Prefects led them off to their dormitories. Sirius, James, Remus, Peter and a few other boys followed a tall brown-haired boy up many flights of stairs until they reached a portrait of a rather voluptuous woman. "Heliopath", said the Prefect, and theFat Ladyallowed them to pass through the portrait hole.

There was a lot of laughter and pillow throwing in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory, of course, but Peter was too tired to join in. As he brushed his teeth, he could hear James and Sirius laughing about that Slytherin boy again asRemus repeatedly tried to change the subject to what classes they had the next day.

The moment Peter's head hit the pillow, he fell sound asleep. James and Sirius snuck up to his bedside, unbeknownst to him, but Remus merely ushered them away. After all, it wouldn't be kind to wake him with a splash water after such an exhausting day. If they did it at all, Remus explained, it would be best done in the morning. James and Sirius agreed reluctantly, but swore that they'd use it tomorrow, bright and early. At that moment, Peter snorted in his sleep, leaving James, Sirius, and Remus fighting back laughter as they climbed into their beds.

**Author's Note:**

If you're wondering if I've fogotten that Voldemort is growing in power at this time, I haven't. ;) He'll most definetly be mentioned in the next few chapters. More than mentioned after another seven or eight chapters, actually.

And, as usual, read and review. Suggestions welcome. Corrections even more welcome!


	10. Red and Green

**Chapter 10: Red and Green**

Lily woke to a rope of crimson bed curtain tassels tickling her nose. For a few moments she was completely dazed. Where was she? And then her memories of the previous day flooded back to her like a warm ocean wave, salted with nervousness and laughs, arguments and adventures. Potter. And that other dark haired boy, Black. Lily recalled their ridiculous antics and, she hated to admit it, their playful sense of humor, although cruel at times. This last thought brought her mind back to that other dark haired boy, the one with the terrible cold. The one she had first met at Platform 9 ¾. Well, met rather informally. What was his name? She couldn't remember.

"Mmph!" Lily gasped, the wind knocked out of her, as a giant bag of clothes landed on her stomach.

"Wake up, Lily! If you don't get ready we'll all be late!" A tall blonde girl with freckles had tossed Lily's entire wardrobe upon her. "Oh! I'm so sorry! Are you all right?" The girl rushed over to Lily's bed and heaved the load off hurriedly, a mixture of amusement and embarrassment on the girl's face.

"Its all right, Arabella. No, really, I'm fine. Yes. I'll be fine." Lily replied, trying to convince herself of this more than anyone else. Groaning, Lily rolled off the bed and slid on her green fuzzy turtle slippers. Slowly, as if walking in a dense fog, Lily made her way towards the bathroom, grabbing her toiletries on the way. Lily could hear high pitched, excited laughter from within. Everyone was eager to get to their first class and, as Lily noted despite her exhaustion, very energetic and lively. Mmmh. Lily had never been a morning person.

"Oh, what cute slippers, Lily!" exclaimed a petite, dark skinned girl with short spiky hair.

"Pthankss, Tryphena!." Lily spoke while brushing her teeth, sleep deprivation and foam impeding her speech. After rinsing her mouth, Lily added "Almost everything in my wardrobe is green. My mum seemed to think the color went well with my eyes."

"But it does." said Arabella, eyes sparkling mischievously at a sudden thought. "Too bad you're in Gryffindor. If you were in Slytherin, your attire would always match your eyes."

Tryphena choked on her mouth of toothpaste and spit it out into the sink violently. "Oh, yeah. I'm so sure that's why Lily should be in Slytherin. So her badge will match her eyes." Tryphena said sarcastically, turning the tap on violently, spraying her neighbors with water. "Like any of us would want to be with that lot."

Lily didn't have anything to say to that. She still hadn't adjusted to the hatred and rivalry that existed between the two houses, and she doubted she'd be accustomed to it very soon. The viciousness with which Tryphena had spoken did make her wonder if there was any personal experience behind her detestation, however.

"Fifteen minutes until classes officially begin!" a Head Girl's voice called up the stairs. Lily's green slippers forgotten, the girls began panicking, stuffing their belongings into waterproof bags and throwing them onto their beds, tugging Gryffindor uniforms on, and searching for misplaced glasses. (This latter task was performed by Tryphena, who had been so tired out after the feast that she had fallen asleep with them still perched on her nose, only to discover come morning that they had vanished.)

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"Oh no! I left my schedule on the bathroom counter!" moaned Arabella as she, Tryphena and Lily sprinted down the cold stone stairwell towards their first class.

"Leave it! We have the same classes, remember?" Lily reminded, gasping for breath.

"Oh. Right."

They had reached the dungeons. Lily came to an abrupt stop by a weathered door, Tryphena gracefully following suit. Arabella, on the other hand, nearly toppled over in desperate effort not to collide with them.

Lily listened intently. She could hear voices from within. A foul stench reached her nose. "I believe this is Potions." she said, pushing the heavy door open. The three girls entered, Tryphena wrinkling her nose as the smell wafted in her direction as well. Arabella gasped in disgust, quickly covering her nose with her sleeve.

"Welcome to class!"

A rotund man with a giant mustache and an almost too jovial smile waved to them from the front of the room.

"Please find your seats. My name is Professor Slughorn, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin. You needn't worry, girls. There are still...lets see… three other students that have yet to arrive. I don't mind at all. It is your first year, not to mention your first day, and I didn't expect everyone to be on time." Professor Slughorn grinned as he said this, literally bouncing at regular intervals. Lily could tell that he loved teaching.

Arabella and Tryphena went and seated themselves on the right side of the room. Lily noticed that it was densely populated by red and gold scarfed students, where as the other half sitting further left were all wearing green.

Lily was halfway to an empty seat next to Remus, (at least, she was fairly sure that was his name), when she remembered that she'd left the door open. If she'd given it more thought, she probably wouldn't have gone to close it, as there were more students to come, but her mind was so fixated on the voluntary segregation that had occurred so naturally in the classroom, she couldn't tear her thoughts away from the ridiculousness of it to think of much else.

She had the door half closed when she was violently thrown back. Three boys galloped through the doorway as she landed with a pained gasp on the solid stone floor.

Professor Slughorn rose from his chair, deeply concerned and not remotely jovial. Lily groaned as she tried to rise, her legs stabbing with pain. The three whirlwinds turned around to face her, realization only just dawning on their features.

"Evans!" cried Potter, gaping at her as if she'd just materialized out of thin air. "I…I…" The shorter boy, Peter, was the first to regain his sanity. Peter was about to reach out and help Lily to her feet, when James darted forward, nearly knocking Peter down as well. Shoving his hand out, Potter offered to help her to her feet with an air of attempted gallantry. Lily thought he looked an absolute idiot. Ignoring his hand, which he began to wave in front of her face insistently, she attempted to stand on her own.

"Don't just stand there, boy!" barked the mustachioed man, striding down the aisle towards the four of them. "Help her!"

Losing patience, Potter grabbed Lily's arm with what he undoubtedly believed to be gentleness and clumsily hauled her to her feet. Annoyed at his nerve and her own inability to stand on her own, Lily pushed Potter away, only to nearly topple over once more. At the last moment, she opted to grab onto Peter's shoulder. Surprised, Peter quickly held on to her as well, shocked that she had decided to trust him, the shorter and less muscular of the three, with her safety. Peter blushed crimson as she thanked him.

By this time the professor had reached her side and bent low to inspect Lily's leg. The ankle was swelling up rapidly. Professor Slughorn began muttering under his breath, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"I believe a visit to Madame Pomphrey is in order. Would anyone be kind enough to help Miss…ah…what is your name, dear? Miss Evans, to the hospital wing?"

About a dozen hands shot up on the right side of the room, Arabella's, Tryphena's, and Remus's included. Lily noticed that not a single volunteer was from Slytherin. Perhaps the stigma wasn't so unjustly earned as she had previously believed, Lily thought resentfully. Professor Slughorn had noticed this distinction too, it seemed, as his frown deepened and he glared at that particular side of the room. Slughorn stood there a few moments longer, scowl deepening as he stared furiously at the green-clad individuals who had suddenly found their unopened books and unused quills extremely fascinating. The rude blonde that Lily had met on the boat the previous night sat scratching something into her desk as her neighbor, a brunette, whispered to her in a low, whiny voice.

"I repeat. Would anyone be kind enough to help Miss Evans to the hospital wing?"

Slughorn seemed quite embarrassed by his house's lack of enthusiasm. The waiting made Lily's ankle twinge impatiently. What did it really matter? She'd rather have a willing assistant than a resentful one on _this_ particular journey.

Professor Slughorn whipped around to face a boy hiding in the shadows of the back, left-hand corner of the room. Clearly, he chose the farthest desk so as not to be noticed by anyone, _including_ the teacher. Slughorn saw this as the perfect opportunity.

"Severus, will you be so kind as to…"

The boy was already on his feet, having anticipated Slughorn's request. Lily cringed. She didn't wish to be a bother to anyone, especially the boy that Potter and Black had been so rude to at the feast. She knew that he was probably the last person who would wish to escort a _Gryffindor_ girl up to the hospital wing. Nonetheless, Slughorn smiled warmly as the boy came forward. Severus's expression was as void as it could possibly be in contrast to Slughorn's grin. Slughorn's expression was one of good humor, but Lily sensed that it was also one that forbid the boy to refuse the request.

The boy met Lily's guilty stare with such an ambiguous glance that Lily had to look down at her feet, embarrassed. As passionate as she had spoken the previous night on inter-house cooperation, she felt more than prepared to eat her words. Why did Slughorn have to present her with something like this on her first day? What could he _possibly_ be thinking?


	11. Rather Awkward

**Chapter 11: Rather Awkward**

James, having regained most his senses, shot a dirty look as Slughorn helped Lily lean on Snape's arm for support. It was rather awkward, as the Slytherin boy was obviously struggling to put as much distance between Lily's body and his own while simultaneously having to prevent her from falling. Lily felt terribly self-conscious as well, keenly aware of Snape's aversion to her touch. As Lily and her wary companion began tottering towards the door, she was surprised at how much she could observe out of the corner of her eye. Sirius Black mimed puking into his cauldron, while a blond haired Slytherin boy and his partner exchanged bemused glances. Within an excruciatingly long moment, the classroom was left behind as the two began awkwardly climbing the dungeon stairwell. Lily could hear Slughorn's booming voice begin the lesson. Thankfully it was something about bezoars. She already knew what those were.

The trip to the top of the stairs was a long and painful one. Every time she had to use her injured leg to mount a stair Lily couldn't help but flinch. Trying to concentrate on something else, Lily listened intently to the echoes of their feet along the stone hall, the hollow resonance following the duo every step of the way.

Severus was probably the last practical choice for this errand. Observing his exceptionally thin build, Lily was surprised that he could support her weight at all. And yet, he stood strong. He lacked the physical build possessed by that Potter, but even if it was due to mere stubborn determination, Snape's strength sufficed. Nevertheless, Lily couldn't help but feel concerned when she happened to catch a look at his features. He looked like a dying person. His skin was sallow and white, the palest white she'd ever seen in a complexion. His eyes were deep and dark, pronounced even more than they would be if he didn't have such dark shadows beneath them.

Lily winced involuntarily as they hit another flight of stairs. Literally. She hadn't been watching where they were going, and she nearly tripped over the first step. Severus glanced at her then. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

"I assume that your fall did not greatly affect your vision?"

As much as Lily wished to retort, she held her tongue. Instead, she considered his remark. This boy was helping her greatly, whether he wanted to be a prat about it or not. Maybe he was trying to be humorous, in an odd sort of way, and so she decided to interpret it thus.

Lily laughed awkwardly. It was a forced laugh, it was true, but such a laugh is expected from a person in pain. Snape smirked slightly, but his expression had an air of confusion to it. Well, whether he had intended to be insultive or not, my reaction was certainly unexpected, Lily thought with satisfaction.

Ow.

Another agonizing pang traveled up her bones as she landed her foot in an awkward position. As they climbed what felt like the thousandth stairwell, Lily felt Snape adjust his stance to a less awkward position. Was it just her imagination, or was this climb not as painful as the last? She felt a wave of gratitude. It wasn't his fault that he'd been chosen to accompany her to the hospital wing, and yet he'd done so without too much complaint. Well, aside from his poorly concealed aversion to her.

"I'm sorry that you had to do this, Severus." Lily began as they reached the second to the last stairway. "I…I understand that you probably resent missing the first class. Not to mention how, um…well." She decided against mentioning the fact that she was a Gryffindor. " I…I'm really sorry, is all."

It was a long minute before he answered her. When he finally spoke, or rather, whispered, it was with an air of indifference. "It matters little. Suffice to say I have some familiarity with the subject already."

He gave her an odd glance. "I should think that you'd be more concerned with your own absence from class."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "I've read the texts as well, and although I haven't had the materials to actually practice brewing any of the potions, I believe I have a thorough enough understanding of the basics. Perhaps more than the basics."

They arrived at the hospital wing. Oddly, there was no one present.

"Maybe the nurse is…busy elsewhere." Lily said with a hint of disappointment. She was going to say at the bathroom, but for some odd reason Lily felt squeamish about voicing that particular thought to Severus. 'You're being ridiculous, Lily!' her thoughts admonished. Still, Severus was…unusual. She didn't feel at ease with him, despite his less hostile behavior at the conclusion of their trip.

"It's alright, Severus. Really. I'll just sit and wait until the nurse returns." Lily sat down on the nearest hospital bed, sighing with the relief it gave to her injury. The mattress felt like the softest material in the world at that moment.

Snape turned abruptly towards the door. Within moments, he'd swept out of the room without so much of a goodbye.

Lily felt awful, and it wasn't because of her leg. Of course, she shouldn't have expected any more of him. He had needed to return to class, whether he really knew everything Professor Slughorn would be teaching or not. Just the same, she couldn't help but feel horribly alone in the large, empty ward. It was rather drab in appearance, she thought. You would think they'd try to brighten the place up a bit with some faux flowers or something. She shivered. It was rather drafty, too. The fireplace had lost its roaring flames at least an hour ago. A few long minutes past.

Suddenly, the door opened again. A squat, red-faced woman bustled in hurriedly with a look of motherly concern on her face. Lily blinked. Following close behind her was Severus Snape. The woman's warm presence made Severus's dark and unhealthy appearance even more apparent than usual. Lily suppressed a smile. As distasteful he may have found her, he had felt obligated to help even further.

Severus spoke as if he knew her mind. "I doubt Professor Slughorn would have been pleased if I'd left you without medical attention available." he said coldly, almost with a sneer. "Am I dismissed?"

All amiable thoughts left Lily's mind as if he'd slapped her. Taking a shuddering breath, Lily nodded, throat tight with anxiety. Lily's eyes followed him to the door. She didn't even notice the reproachful stare that the kindly nurse threw after him.

_Author's Note:_

_Pardon the Lily/Snape mood I am in. Yes, I admit, I'm a Lily/Snape shipper, but I promise you that James ends up with Lily in the end. Scouts honor. In the meantime, I hope that you all enjoy something a little off the beaten path. Actually, I believe its not necessarily a figment of my imagination. I think that the 7th book will reveal that Snape and Lily had a relationship. I mean, she was a "dab hand at potions", she disliked Potter's bullying habits, and she defended Snape often enough. _

_Perhaps my taste in couples has a trend. I love Wuthering Heights (as does J.K. Rowling). I also love Phantom of the Opera. Angst-filled relationships are fascinating to me. I promise I'll regain my sanity by...well...their seventh year. (Hahaha!) Hey, I can't help it.. According to Sirius, James and Lily finally started dating in their **seventh** year, once he'd "deflated his head a bit". What was Lily up to before that? Hmmm. _

_Thanks so much for reading, and I hope this chapter was well-written. I've been exaughsted lately. First week of school and all that. Maybe as my senior year progresses, my writing will gradually improve... Read and Review!_


	12. Lu Malfoy

**Chapter 12: Lu Malfoy**

As soon as Snape entered the Slytherin common room, a tall blond seventh year called him over.

"You, boy! Come here."

After pausing for a moment, staring blankly back at him, Snape approached the couch on which the older student and a girl much closer to his own age, Narcissa Black, were lounging.

"Eeeew! Don't come too close to me, Snape! Not after touching that Mudblood!" whined Narcissa Black as Severus slumped into the neighboring armchair.

Snape stared briefly into her blue eyes. She wasn't really bothered by his presence. But upon Snape's arrival, the older boy had directed his attention away from Narcissa. Her comment on his embarrassing Potions errand was merely to draw the seventh year's attention back to her.

Typical.

"Cissy, Cissy…where are your manners?" chided the boy as Narcissa stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. "You know Sluggy as well as I do. As clever as he may be, he has always idiotically expected his 'favorites' to like each other. All to further his own causes, I'm sure…"

Severus stared blankly at the older boy. A smug little smile had appeared on his face. The boy's tone was casual enough, but Snape knew that there was a genuine reason that he had been beckoned over in the first place. As if a seventh year would have anything to do with a first year otherwise.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy."

The smile vanished for a split second as Malfoy examined a passing thought. After a moment, however, he smirked confidently again. It was as if the slight frown of contemplation had never even existed in the first place. Whatever it was he was being asked, Severus was sure is was weighing heavily on the boy's conscience. No, not boy. He was nearly a man. Or he would be, anyways, once he had his seventeenth birthday.

"Snape.", Severus answered.

The young man frowned slightly again. "Is that your first or last name?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "It is the name I would prefer to be called."

Narcissa gasped, but Malfoy laughed heartily. He didn't appear to be faking it either. After regaining his composure, Malfoy offered Snape his hand. "I like you. You've got the right attitude. Very well then. You can call me Lu." Ew. Snape refrained from wincing at the nickname with great difficulty. Luckily, "Lu" didn't notice. Severus made a mental note never to address Malfoy by any name if he could help it.

"What do you want with me?"

He didn't feel like wasting time. He hadn't had a good night sleep in weeks thanks to his illness. Even the wizarding world had yet to find a cure for the common cold.

Malfoy grinned.

"Narcissa. Would you be so kind as to leave Snape and I for a few minutes? I promise you'll see more of me later."

Narcissa exhaled sharply in annoyance but didn't argue. Within moments she had disappeared up the stairs to her dormitory. Most of the common room had cleared out, except for a black haired girl sleeping on the armchair in the corner of the room. Her snores and lop-sided posture indicated that she would not wake for a long while.

Having ascertained that this girl was truly asleep, Malfoy withdrew a very small package from within his robe pocket. Wrapped in plain brown paper, it crinkled slightly as Malfoy tossed towards Snape's face. Severus caught it.

"Place this near the grating of the north-side gate sometime after ten o'clock tonight, but before midnight."

Snape stared blankly back at him.

"What's in this for you? Connections, my friend. Entering Hogwarts as a kid without allies is like a mouse entering a house of cats. You get eaten."

Malfoy leaned closer.

"Accept, and I'll introduce you to someone who can _really_ help you find your way in the world."

"A student?" Snape was skeptical.

Malfoy chuckled.

"No."

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_Author's Note:_

_I'm sooo sorry that I haven't updated in months! Please don't hate me:( Over the holidays I will try to add another chapter. Sorry this one's a bit short. I try. I really do. I hope this one turned out ok. As usual, read and review. Constructive criticism only, cause I can't use the other sort. :)_


	13. October Winds

**Chapter 13: October Winds**

Severus refused "Lu" Malfoy's invitation. Who the hell did he think he was speaking to fellow students, first-years or not, as though he were royalty? Severus didn't even bother asking further about this supposed influential and powerful connection the boy-man claimed to have. (What are seventh years anyways? Just overgrown children if they played games like Malfoy.) Whatever. Severus figured the idiot would soon forget about him and seek out some less intelligent people to enlist as his friends. Servants, more like.

Stifling a yawn before it took form, Severus stalked off to bed. The Slytherin dormitories were a bit chilly because they were located beneath the lake, and they smelled a bit moldy, but he supposed they had a sort-of elegant beauty. The common room had windows out to the murky waters through which you could sometimes glimpse the giant squid gliding past and, on occasion, something more sinister. In the dormitories, however, there were much smaller windows, each lit by a mysterious green glow. The boy in the bed closest to his was trying to peer out into the dark abyss beyond, but after a few futile minutes past he abandoned his perch on the nightstand (the windows were set too high to see out without climbing something) and went to wash up.

Too tired to bother getting up Severus decided he'd brush his teeth in the morning. He forced his mind to forget about "Lu" Malfoy and the ridiculous events that occurred earlier that day, concluding that Malfoy would forget about him and pursue other students to coerce into running his errands. Unfortunately, as Snape would soon discover during the next few weeks, Lucius hadn't any such intentions.

* * *

By Halloween Remus had already identified his favorite classes. Potions was rather complicated, demanding both creativity and rigid exactness in a pseudo-paradox of sorts. Remus enjoyed all his classes with Professor Slughorn but had yet to master the art of brewing perfect potions. It was by far one of his most difficult subjects.

Care of Magical Creatures was either very easy or extremely hard. The challenges of the class varied week to week depending upon what creatures they were studying. Herbology was very much the same in that respect.

Charms was very pleasant, and although Professor Circe (lovely woman) was currently placing much emphasis on the basics Remus could tell that eventually their work would become an art rather than an exact science. From what he had read about the subject at the library it was like magical poetry, a study based upon limitless creativity bound together by only certain parameters.

Defense Against the Dark Arts, on the other hand, was by far Remus's favorite and strongest class. Often relying on instinct more than reason, an odd change of pace for Remus, he found all of the spells and counter-curses came effortlessly. It was like Charms only far more intense and complex. Defense Against the Dark arts had a more precise purpose and was mysteriously limited by greater constraints.

Remus had also gotten to know Sirius Black and James Potter a bit better. They were quite an unusual pair, however, and Remus doubted he could ever claim to "know" either of them perfectly. Since their first evening at Hogwarts he'd figured out that they both enjoyed pretending to be interested in girls (which they weren't, really, being a couple months shy of twelve years old), they both enjoyed throwing food at meals, especially anything which made a satisfying squelching noise on impact, and that they both had an absolute obsession with Quidditch. The former sort of creeped Remus out for a while. Although he had many female friends he could never comprehend pretending to be any older or pretending to feel any different than he actually did.

Sirius liked referring to Remus as "the sensitive one", but Remus knew himself better than that. Sensitive, possibly, but he hoped he concealed his emotions a bit better than most. Remus preferred to avoid conflict and would therefore always refrain from expressing himself in a way that would cause any. He had kept to himself the first week and was sure that most of the other first years thought his reserved personality was out of intellectual snobbery. He never went anywhere without a book. Whenever he wanted to hide from the world Remus could merely reach for his book bag, withdraw from it his favorite volume, and lose himself in it.

And yet despite his fondness for crisp pages and the scent of leather bindings, Sirius had apparently grown fond of him. Neither of the two ever bothered to study for more than twenty minutes. Before ten minutes could pass they'd be making odd noises, and then by the twentieth minute the two mischievous imps would have thrown all of their study materials to opposite sides of the room and pelted Peter Pettigrew with all the available wads of crumpled parchment available. Remus couldn't help wondering if the three of them, three rather than two because Peter had adopted many of their bohemian behaviorisms by the fourth day, had been shipped off to Hogwarts to be studied in Care of Magical Creatures and mistakenly registered as members of the student body.

Whatever the case, Remus found himself having more fun than he'd ever had in his entire life. At first he'd feared they'd manage to convince him to diminish his intense study habits. Happily, after a couple bouts of mayhem left no stain on Remus's marks he realized that a bit of insanity was just what his life needed. Besides, chasing after them was good exercise. In fact, he'd been having so much fun he had almost forgotten that he was scheduled to "fall ill" on the night of the Halloween feast. McGonagall's kindly yet sad reminder after Transfiguration threw Remus back into a cruel reality.

"I will be waiting for you in the hospital wing this evening, Remus." she explained delicately, a pitying look in her eyes. "I think it is best if we start out from there. In this way we will avoid awkward questions from your fellow students."

Remus couldn't think of what to tell the others. His mind was unfocused and fearful during all his classes. Defense Against the Dark Arts, generally his favorite subject, went terribly. The subject of the day was werewolves. One classmate even volunteered a greusome tale of his third cousin's sanguine death at the claws and teeth of one particularly viscious creature by the name of Fenir Greyback. This story remained on his mind for the rest of the day. Remus was so distracted he even managed to light his sleeve on fire during Potions.

Worst of all, after spending all day straining to conjure a plausible excuse to tell the boys Remus had still come up with nothing. His nervousness must have shown, because James repeatedly asked him if he were feeling well. Having come upon no logical explanation for his absence at the evening feast Remus found himself leaving the castle, a chilly October breeze grazing his face, having told them nothing. He prayed they would understand. But what would he tell them when he returned? An involuntary shiver shook him as he watched the sun sink beneath the darkening mountains.

McGonagall must have sensed his horrible thoughts. She said nothing, not having anything to say, but she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. As they walked towards the Whomping Willow, it's angry branches thrashing in the wind, Remus resigned himself to a very difficult night, thoughts of his ignorant friends providing little comfort. He swore they would never find out.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_Wow. Hello again after a very long intermission. I feel so odd having returned to this story, having not touched it in months, but I'm very happy to have done so. Some special thanks is owed to Pessimistic Drip, an astounding poet who's unexpected review convinced me to try my hand at writing again. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I haven't written much of anything since I graduated this past Spring, so I beg you to all to be patient with my rusty pen that even when well-exercised doesn't always write as well as it should. I sometimes feel like I have a quill like Rita's, only it doesn't write what I want or anywhere near as good as I'd like, but (for better or for worse) it writes nonetheless. Ha._

_Thank you for reading and I hope to update again soon! And thanks again to Pessimistic Drip. I'm very grateful you dragged me out of hiding again. ;)_


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